


Sunrise To The East

by Kaerue, umbreonnightgale



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse of Authority, M/M, Nazi Germany, Rape, Soviet Union
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerue/pseuds/Kaerue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbreonnightgale/pseuds/umbreonnightgale
Summary: Gilbert spent 15 years of his youth in prison, Siberia. He’s now in his 40’s a year after his release; he lives peacefully in Moscow now. Work is still a constant struggle, for nobody want’s to hire a Nazi spy.
Relationships: Lithuania/Prussia (Hetalia), Russia/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another COLLAB? You bet yo asses. 
> 
> Will be adding new tags as we update chapters. Will be getting more intense with new chapters added. 
> 
> This story is following a few years after WW2 has ended and the start of the Soviet Union.

The year was 1959.

It finally seemed as if things could get better. Only fourteen years after the end of the Great Patriotic War, the wounds created within the community only just began to heal into obvious scars. Young men were still greatly outnumbered by women their age, bombed out houses in the rural countryside remained in shambles, and people walked through the city with physical consequences from the war. But things were starting to look up. High rises were popping up everywhere, housing anyone who lost their homes to the war. An elaborate subway system was being constructed in Moscow, pulling inspiration from Roman architecture and showing off the creativity and wealth of the city. The famine was subsiding, jobs were being created - it genuinely seemed like things were on the up and up. 

Yet even in such a hopeful environment not all things were well. The power of the state had grown into something that could reach into the personal lives of any one of its citizens. A neighbor would one day no longer be seen coming home from work. A husband with no warning could disappear. A daughter who had once been attending university vanished. Each step must be made carefully as to not alert the eyes of the state. Especially if one was marked with suspicion from the start. 

Gilbert inhaled deep, the winter chill filling up his lungs as he exhaled, taking a confident step forward out of his small, dingy little apartment. The ground was decorated with large chunks of salt along the cobblestone; but even then, it couldn't melt the snow that continued to fall from the skies like ash from an active volcano. 

Gilbert’s teeth chattered as he danced from one foot to another, trying to warm up his body; his passport and resume glued to his pockets. His boot’s scraping along the uneven surface as he engrossed himself in the alluring artichture that always seemed to leave the German man breathless with it’s dark beauty. 

The albino entered the large open space to view the Savior on the Spilled Blood. To view it up close and admire all its glory, he had to tilt his head up to see all the fine details of the church.

Open petals of an immortelle flower, famous for its long lasting beauty since even when cold it could maintain it’s form and colour when dried. Five cupolas with onion shaped domes, central cupola capping a tent roof and surrounded by four cupolas. 

Golden highlights, organic and dynamic forms, strict avoidance of historical traits. Gilbert could stand there all morning and admire the building. Gilbert pulled out his arm, pulling back his sleeve as he checked at his watch, the time was 7am on the dot. He still had plenty of time to make it to the interview. 

Eager to move forward, Gilbert adjusted the fur hat and bundled the fabric up close to his body. Gilbert has lost count of how many jobs he has applied for; but he knew why, they all knew why nobody would want to hire an imprisoned officer for a war that cost hundreds and thousands of lives. It was only in the last year Gilbert finished his sentence, 15 years in prison. 

Given, he did community work; but never a real job where he could put his money in his back pocket. The gulag had taken his youth, yet Gilbert was determined to make something of himself even at the age of 40.

It was a thirty minute power walk by the time Gilbert made it to the industrial building; it was massive, it stood out like a sore thumb and workers came through the doors day in and night. The rumours of good pay were enough to have Gilbert’s interest, he was willing to take anything; he didn’t have the option to be picky. Eager to make a good impression, Gilbert made sure to check his casual clothing was decent; once satisfied, he cautiously approached the staircase as he pulled out his ID, passport and other necessities as let himself be in, the door closing behind him to be greeted within a lobby. 

It was nice, nicer than the inside of most buildings Gilbert saw these days. The chill was knocked out of the space and the floors were immaculate, shining even. A young man sat at the front desk, speaking fast Russian into the receiver of an old telephone. 

Gilbert couldn't help but feel out of place, there was so much to look and focus on one subject. Gilbert couldn't help but feel bad as his boots soiled the polished floors, approaching the brunette with a fixed posture and a charming smile. Patiently, he waited for the man to finish. 

The man softly hangs up the phone before turning to Gilbert. His eyes are the only thing that looks kind about this man. He is dressed in a faded green military uniform, perfectly fitted and without even a speck of dirt in sight. The name  Laurinaitis is stitched onto the front of the coat. 

“I take it you are here for an interview?” The man asks in a voice much kinder than that uniform would suggest. 

“Yes; my name is Gilbert Beilschmidt.” 

Gilbert responded, the man was young but it was clear he held a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders. 

“Beilschmidt?” The man’s eyebrow raises but whether in suspicion or curiosity is lost on Gilbert. “That sounds awfully German, where are you from?” He asks while beginning to rummage through a few of the folders resting on the desk. 

Gilbert couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the nosy receptionist.

“Not to sound rude.. but I’m here for an interview, not to be questioned by some guy who works at the front desk.”

The man stops rummaging and looks at Gilbert with eyes that now match the severity of his attire. 

“You’re bold. With an attitude like that you won’t last here a day.” He finds the folder he was looking for and dials a number on the telephone. “Number 0482 is here for the interview.” With that he hangs the phone up and returns his gaze to Gilbert. “The overseer is going to come through that door behind me and conduct your interview in a private room. If she is pleased with you, you will receive a tour of the facility and then meet the main guy who runs all this. I’d expect it to take a few hours. You’ll also get your picture taken and a clearance card if you are hired.” 

"Challenge accepted."  Gilbert grinned with optimism.

Surprisingly the man smiles a bit and shakes his head. Optimism is always nice to see, even if ill-advised. Like stated before the door behind the desk opens and a middle aged woman steps out. She has short blonde hair and kind blue eyes, a pretty face despite the marks of time around her mouth and eyes. Her attire is simple, a dark blue coat over a white blouse that is tucked into a pencil skirt. 

“You must be Gilbert Beilschmidt, we have been told a lot about you. Please, follow me this way.” She says before walking toward the opposite side of the lobby. 

Gilbert's head whirled around at the sound of the door opening; the first thing he laid his eyes on were her large, excessive blossoms. His heart almost jumped to his throat, his eyes lingering heavy on her meaty thighs that the skirt compressed. 

"Y-yes, I'm coming." 

Gilbert couldn't help but stagger as he approached her, it almost felt as if he was a youth again. Up close was even more.. Impressive. 

Did his voice just seriously crack like a pubescent teenager? 

"Toris must like you if he called me for your interview. He tends to call my sister Nataliya for those he dislikes." The woman says while walking into a small office. She approaches the desk and sits down at the chair before gesturing to Gilbert to sit across from her. "Anywho my name is Ekaterina Alexandrovitch Braginskaya, but you may call me Katya if you wish. Is there a name you like to go by?" 

Gilbert sat down on the plush chair, placing his papers down before taking off the fur hat and leather gloves to place down on the small coffee table next to his documents, his white hair coming out in a flurry. 

“Just Gilbert. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Katya.” He reached for the papers, tried to keep his eyes distracted from the Russian beauty sitting before him.

"Alright, Gilbert it is. . . So, I have here on your file that you were imprisoned for a while. Do you mind talking about this? No need to worry, the factory has rehabilitation programs for those coming from prison. I just need to know the nature of your incarceration." 

“Not at all. I was a prisoner of war in Sibera for 15 years; I was a spy during the occupation of Nazi Germany.” 

Gilbert explained, expression passive. He wasn’t ashamed of his past.

"Hm," Katya's eyes narrow slightly, " I see. Well, I'm sure a lot has changed about you in the last fifteen years. Umm, which position did you apply for? An office job, right? Or was it one of the linemen in the factory?" 

“In the office.” 

Given the amount of labour he’s had all of his life, to take a job at the desk and not move a muscle yet earn money? Easy money. It was almost laughable.

"Ah, yes. Well aren't you lucky? The position of assistant to the man in charge of all of this has recently opened. I'm sure you would fit in well seeing all this on your resume. Do you have reliable transportation here?" 

“Yes, I live not too far from here. It’s within short walking distance.”

Katya smiles brightly, bouncing slightly as she peeks up. 

"Well fantastic! I suppose we should get started with the tour of the facility. Please, follow me." 

“Urh.. is that it?” Gilbert questioned, a little surprised, standing up. It was clear the woman was used to such insidious stares towards her bosom; or she simply had gotten used to such behaviour she was passive about it. His fingers itched by his sides as he watched the large flesh bounce

Katya giggles before nodding. 

“We usually have a good idea of who gets hired before we make the interviews. This is just so we can see what you are like.” She walks back out into the lobby and stops by the desk of the young man. “This is Toris  Laurinaitis. He is our secretary, so if you have any questions or need anything feel free to ask.” Toris looks up at Gilbert and nods once. 

“Through these double doors here is the main part of the factory.” Katya says before opening the doors and walking inside. The facility is enormous, filled with large machines and conveyor belts. Men are lined up along the belts and organizing parts and bullets. A few women hang around the large machines, making sure they do not need matentinece. The smell of gunpowder and oil hang heavy in the area, the noise is loud as metal moves against metal. 

With not another word Katya leads Gilbert through the central aisle of the factory, giving him a close up of the work the linemen do. Ten minutes pass before they finally reach the other end of the factory where a set of bare metal stairs awaits. Katya ascends first, providing a view that makes Gilbert hold onto the rail a bit tighter. 

“Up here is where the offices are, through that door.” She says while gesturing to the dull, wooden door. “The big boss likes to watch the factory workers from this balcony. Helps them do faster work, he says.” She pushes open the door and allows Gilbert to step in first. The commotion of the factory ceases as the door closes behind them. “Ten people work in this space, eleven including you I suppose. My office is right over there, but I am going to take you to my boss’ office to finish the rest of the interview process.” 

She abruptly stops walking and turns to Gilbert. 

“He’s a bit intense, but I swear his heart is in the right place. Don’t feel too intimidated.” She ends her statement with a smile before leading Gilbert to the central office in the space. 3

Gilbert grins, for he didn’t seem at all deteriorated with Katya’s warning.

“Thanks for the warnin’, darlin; but I think I’ve got this.”

Gilbert says with confidence, giving the secretary a thumbs up as he placed his hand on the door knob to open the door knob.

He knew little of his new boss; Ivan  Braginsky , what he did know was that he was a son of an officer high in the commmunist party and played an important role. Gilbert wasn’t too sure what he was expecting, but by his observations, the response towards the man has been mixed. Fear and respect. 

He wasn’t that old. Come to think of it the man sitting at the desk in the office looked perhaps even younger than Gilbert himself. Could he really be as intimidating as Katya said? Sure, the man looked quite large, and the dark blue coat and red badge stating ‘КПСС’ in gold lettering was not helping, but Gilbert had surely seen worse in prison. The man’s cold lavender gaze falls onto Gilbert and the faintest smile appears at his lips. 

“That was fast Katyusha, I expected him to be here much later.” His voice was deep but soft. 

“I’m sorry, Vanya. He didn’t have many questions like the others seem to have. Well, if you will both excuse me I have a few things to attend to in my office. Good luck Gilbert!” She bounces happily again before turning and exiting the office, leaving Gilbert alone with Mr. Braginsky. 

As the woman disappeared behind the door, Gilbert released a breathless sigh.

“ _ Wow _ . What a woman.”

“Yes, a wonderful woman indeed who happens to be my sister. If I notice you not making eye contact with her again while looking in her direction I will personally see to it that you will never see anything again.” Ivan ends his brutal statement with a fake little smile before gesturing to the seat in front of his desk. “Please, take a seat.” 

Gilbert blinked once, then twice. 

_ Sister?  _

Now this new hire was striking. Never before had Ivan seen someone like this, someone with albinism, that is. He could not believe that red eyes occurred naturally in humans but here is the living proof now, taking a seat before him with an attitude that will get him in trouble for sure. The state didn’t coordinate for Gilbert to find this particular job for giggles. No. Quite the contrary. As a former spy for Nazi Germany Gilbert could never be trusted to just waltz about the Soviet Union as he pleased. Sure, Nazi Germany was no more, but this albino creature before him has more than proved he would risk his life to bring harm to the motherland. 

It is Ivan’s job now to make sure this free radical does no harm to the state. And why not have him work as an assistant all the while? Clearly that attitude was not broken in Siberia, but Ivan will rectify that error. He has quite the reputation within the Party that Gilbert will find out the hard way. Even if the red-eyed man cannot stand this place the Party has made sure of it that he will not be hired anywhere else. And if he poses a threat to the motherland or gets on Ivan’s nerves one too many times? Well. Ivan has the power to send him back to prison, but this time it won’t be in Siberia - No. This time it will be to the mines in the North. It is a death sentence. 

“Gilbert, is it? My name is Ivan  Alexandrovitch Braginsky, but obviously you will refer to me as comrade Braginsky. I run this facility for the state, and have been doing so for almost five years now. You will be working directly for me, similar to  Laurinaitis out there. He will train you over the next week. Do you have any questions for me?” 

Gilbert maneuvered himself onto the plush chair as he leaned over on the desk. 

"Listen- Sir-  _ Braginski _ . I've seem to come off on the wrong foot. If I had known any better I wouldn't have stepped over my bounds, but.. You don't look related to her. I urh, apologies. No hard feelings?" Gilbert opened the palm of his hand with an awkward grin, hoping the Russian man would put a close to this chapter. 

He was already on his first strike and he'd barely started! That had to be some sort of record. 

Ivan’s gaze lazily looks at Gilbert’s open hand before returning to his eyes. 

“My feelings are always hard when it comes to men objectifying my dear sister. But I suppose for the sake of handling this situation with brevity I will let it slide. How comfortable are you around a typewriter?” 

Gilbert let his hand fall and scratch the back of his skull with a sigh of tension, before straightening his back. 

"I've seen people use them, but I haven't actually used one. I've been told I'm a fast learner though." 

“Good. To survive here you will need to learn quickly. In a moment our dear Toris will walk through the door behind you and begin your training.” Ivan smiles but his eyes remain hard. “We look forward to working with you.” 

As Ivan said it would, the door to the office opens and allows for Toris to walk in. 

“Laurinaitis, you will be training  Beilschmidt for the next week. Make sure he fully grasps each task before moving to the next.” 

“As you wish.” Toris says with a slight nod of his head before looking expectantly at Gilbert.

Gilbert looks up, questioning if he was actually working at the front desk or stalked by Barginskis door and waited to be called for. 

One should have expected him to keep quiet and bid the man farewell, but he felt challenged. He stopped by the threshold just as he was about to leave. 

"No offense, Sir, but you say that as if I haven't survived hell. Thank you for your condolences."

With that, Gilbert brushed past Toris and entered into the hallway. 

“Toris.” Ivan says quietly. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“I’m going to have fun breaking him.” 

“I don’t doubt it, sir.” Toris gives a small nod before following Gilbert out of the office. “Gilbert, is it? I suppose the first thing I will teach you is how to use a typewriter. Taking meeting minutes is an important aspect of the job, so you will have to learn to type fast and with no mistakes. Mr. Braginsky does not appreciate mistakes.” 

"Mm. It's Gilbert." Gilbert reassured, waiting for Toris to lead him to the right direction. "Gilbert no mistakes Beilschmidt is my middle name." 

Toris smiles but covers it with his hand before fixing his face. 

“Alright Gilbert no mistakes Beilschmidt, let’s go back to the front desk. There is a spare typewriter there that you can practice on.” With that Toris begins to walk toward the front of the facility.

Gilbert grins, nodding with the utmost confidence. 

Once at the front desk, Toris presents an old, dusty typewriter. 

“She’s not much but she’ll do. Here, take a seat in front of the writer.” Toris says softly. 

Gilbert obeys, outstretching his arms and his fingers played the air like a piano as if to prepare himself. 

"I'm ready to learn, baby!" 

Toris stifles a laugh before sighing. 

“The proper way to hold your hands over the keys is like this.” He says while taking Gilbert’s hands and placing them over the keys. “You should be able to use all of your fingers over the keys like this. That means no using just your index fingers to type. Try typing out your name.” 

Gilbert nods. It was a struggle finding the individual letters on the typewriter, but he was confident with practise he would pick up on it swiftly given the job he just started. Observing people use these machines looked a lot easier than using them, that was for sure.

However, Gilbert did it. 

“Easy. I coulda done that with my eyes closed.”

“You’ve got a lot of confidence for a man who supposedly spent. . . well, you know. Normally people come out of that broken. If they come out at all.” Toris’s voice dips into a somber tone as he looks away. It is not an uncommon thing for people to be sent away. He had a friend once who disappeared one night. “Your spirit must be strong.” 

Gilbert's shoulders sag as his fingertips rest on the bulky keys. A grim, strained smile.

“Strong, huh? It was to survive. If i didn’t make that choice I wouldn’t be here today, that’s for sure.” Gilbert rested his back on the hard chair. 

“You’d imagine the easiest thing to do is give up on life after being held captive for 15 years. I coulda done, but I didn’t. I know I’ll never see my home land again, my family is probably dead for all I know; just being here, breathing freedom, it gives me the strength to not want to go to such a place where I felt numb to the world. My youth was taken from me; but that doesn’t mean I can’t make up for it.”

Toris allows for silence to hang between them for a few moments before speaking up once more. 

“Well, I suppose you have plenty of time to find a home in this great city. . . Um, so, uh, anyway try typing out a sentence. Say something about yourself.” 

“Right, right!” Gilbert jerks straight up, cheeks flushed at preaching about his past the man probably didn’t want to hear. Gilbert clears his throat.

The rest of the morning Gilbert practised on the old typewriter while Toris corrected any hand movements, giving tips and advice where to place his fingers if the letters were spread too far apart. The atmosphere was comforting, relaxing even as time seemed to pass until the afternoon.

“I will admit that I didn’t think you’d get the hang of this that quickly. That bodes well for you. Anyway, it’s one in the afternoon now which means we can go on our lunch break. It normally lasts an hour but sometimes Mr. Braginsky will shorten it to thirty minutes if we are busy. Did you bring any food with you?” Toris asks. 

Gilbert sighed and stretched out his fingers, resting his back on the chair as he sprawled out his legs to tilt his head back on the chair. 

“Afternoon already? Jeez! Time sure flies by. I urh, didn’t really think that far a head, to be honest. I was excited about the new job.” Gilbert expressed truthfully. 

“Urh.. What about you?”

“Yes, I did, and I do not mind sharing. Come on, we get to eat in the break room on the second floor near Mr.Braginsky’s office.” Toris then turns and begins walking toward the back of the facility. 

Gilbert swirled the chair as he stood up to follow Toris back to were they had come from, he couldn’t help but feel bad for taking the man’s lunch. “Hey, Toris, are you sure about that? I can wait until this evening and pig out at my place.” 

Toris smiles lightly before catching himself and fixing his face.

“Yes, do not worry about me. I tend not to eat much as it is.” 

Toris holds the break room door open to allow for Gilbert to walk inside. Katya is already in the room, eating a sandwich at one of the tables. 

“Toris! You both should come sit with me.” She exclaims happily. 

Gilbert looks between Toris and then… fuck, what was her name again? Big Titty Lady? Waiting for him to follow the lead as he sat down next to the brunette. He wasn’t too sure where to keep his eyes, struggling to keep them above her chest even as Braginski’s threat lingered in the air. 

He just simply couldn’t help it. 

As Toris begins to separate his lunch into two he notices Gilbert’s gaze and kicks him under the table. 

“Will your brother be joining us?” Toris asks, hoping to covertly tell Gilbert to shape up. 

“You know that he usually comes here about half way through lunch.” Katya comments. 

“Ow-  _ hey _ ! Not cool man.” Gilbert snarls at Toris, propping his leg up to rub the tender area not so secretively.

“Calm down, will you?” Toris says softly while pushing half a sandwich and some nuts in front of Gilbert. 

“So, Gilbert, how do you like it so far? Toris here has been working with us for almost three years now, I couldn’t imagine you receiving a better trainer.” Katya asks, bouncing happily as she does so. 

Calm down? He was the one to kick him under the table. Huff.

Gilbert grabs the soft bread a little too aggressively as he peers inside to see the filling; a heap of mayo, some lettuce and some pickled herring. it wasn’t like he had the choice to not be picky anymore. He’s digested a lot worse. 

Gilbert has a mouthful before he answers; “oh yeah, Toris is a real swell guy for sure. Decent teacher. I like this place, it’s kinda relaxing; but I suppose this is only my first day and I’m only getting the swing of things around here.”

“I’m glad to hear you are doing well! It is always exciting to get new people around here.” Katya says before the door to the break room opens and Mr. Braginsky walks inside. Now that he is standing it is painfully obvious that the man is tall. If anyone were to be pushing two whole meters in height it would be him. His movements seem strangely calculated, like a cat looking at a flock of resting doves.

Gilbert whips his head around as the door opens; the first thing he noticed was how tall Mr braginski was. Alarmingly so; Gilbert had to put down his half eaten sandwich and meet the Russian man half way, ignoring Toris’ strange, questionable expression as they were almost chest to chest.

Gilbert’s eyes were wide with amazement, for he was simply entertained by how tall the man was.

“Woah, you’re so…  _ tall _ !” Gilbert exclaimed, moving his arm up and down to get a good reference on how much taller Braginski was. It was definitely above the elbow outstretched. 

It was really impressive.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a man as tall as you before.” Gilbert says, now standing by Ivan’s side to see if it made any difference; which of course it didn’t. His roaming eyes glued to the floor as he openly stared at the man’s oversized feet, his brown shoes polished to a shine we’re Gilbert could almost see himself.

Gilbert couldn’t help but point his finger at the boots, “what size feet are you? I bet you have to get them custom made.” Gilbert said, crouching to examine closer.

“As amusing as this is, I’d rather not be gawked at like some animal in a zoo. I see that you have immense trouble at filtering your thoughts.” Ivan casts his eyes downward in an expression that would make any man feel insignificant before walking over to his sister and taking a seat next to her. 

Gilbert frowned at the dark expression as their eyes connected, grimacing at Ivan’s sour reaction as he stood up, slumping down on the chair as he grabbed the sand which once more to chew on it loudly. 

“I take it that training is going well?” Ivan asks without looking at anyone in particular. 

“Yes, sir. Gilbert actually picked on using the typewriter quite quickly.” Toris answers. 

“Good. Now whenever your clumsiness takes one of your hands out for a few weeks we can have a reliable replacement.” Ivan ends his statement by smirking at Toris, causing the smaller man to look down at the table. 

“I will test your ability to type later this week. In the meantime continue to practice. I do believe the filing system is next on the list for training.” Ivan says in a disinterested voice while moving his gaze to Gilbert. 

Gilbert saw the smirk out the corner of his eye as he swallowed; there had to be something going on between Toris and Ivan; but what? Even a man dense as Gilbert knew Ivan wasn’t a pleasant man to be around with, but that doesn’t mean Gilbert would be bending over for him just like that. 

Not literally, of course.

Imagine that. It was a humorous thought that had Gilbert stifled with chuckles.

“You got it, Boss.”

There is that fake smile again, never reaching Ivan’s eyes. It creates an unsettling expression for sure. 

“Well, it would seem lunch is over. Toris, would you mind coming to my office at the end of the day?” Ivan asks. 

“Of course, sir.” Toris attempts to fight off the feeling of dread that rushes through him. At least he is asking at the end of the day, and not now. There are some things he just does not feel like explaining to the brash man he is training. Too many questions can get one in trouble here. 

With that Ivan and Katya stand up and exit the break room. 

As Ivan leaves the room, Gilbert grabs one of the left over peanuts and flicks it as the door closes leaving the pair together alone again. An exasperated sigh leaves his lips.

“I don’t know what it is with that guy, but he has some issues.”

“Y-yeah, I suppose one could say that. Um, would you like to practice more with the typewriter? Or would you rather get started on the filling system?” Toris asks, voice growing stronger as he brushes off what just happened. 

Gilbert couldn’t help but notice the nervous tremble in Toris voice; he couldn’t help but question why.

“Maybe have a go at the filing system next? I can switch between them every three hours or so, since the boss said he’s going to  _ test my ability _ .” 

“Yeah. . . he’ll test you. . . anyway, let’s go back to the front desk.” Toris packs up the rest of his lunch he left unfinished before leading Gilbert back to the front of the facility. The cabinets around the desk are filled to the brim with files ranging from employee papers, tax and insurance information, timecard records, and new hire paperwork. Getting through them and explaining their significance to Gilbert takes the rest of the day. They soon are interrupted by the work bell. Six at night marks the end of the day. Immediately men from the line come shuffling out of the doors from the factory, punching out and leaving the facility. In twenty minutes the place seems empty. 

“Well, looks like we are done for the day. You did well.” Toris says with a small smile. 

Gilbert puts down some brown files in hand as he watches men eagerly leave the factory to go back home to their warm beds and fill their bellies with alcohol. “Thanks for teaching me all the stuff; your a cool guy, I’m glad we get along well enough.” Gilbert grins, inserting the stray tax files back in alphabetical order. 

“You wanna hang out for a bit at mine? It’s not much, but it’s the least I could do.”

Gilbert offered, heart warm.

“That would be nice, but, uh, Mr. Braginsky asked to see me in his office after work. I’m not sure how long that will take, I’d hate for you to be waiting around.” 

Gilbert frowns, but nods with understanding. He didn’t want to pressure the man. Gilbert looks around and finds a little scrap piece of paper, a pen to scribble on his address as he hands the piece to Toris.

“Here. Your welcome around at any time. Don’t let him pick on you too much.” Gilbert grins, putting on his fluffy hat, gloves and jacket to zip it up. 

“Thanks again for today.” Gilbert said, giving Toris a pat on the shoulder and leaving the brunette alone in the lobby, a cold draft as the door swung open and closed.

“I’ll try.” Toris says softly while watching the door close behind Gilbert. Now that he is alone, he is absolutely terrified. 


	2. Chapter 2

It was the last day of Gilbert’s training. Within the weeks of working alongside Toris, he couldn’t help but become rather fond of the man, which he'd come to learn was actually Lithuanian and not Russian; they both had a mutual hatred towards the Russians although for different reasons.  Gilbert has become better at typing with the typewriter faster and efficient, for he could even do it with his eyes closed. He went back and forth with practise and it paid off well. Even Ivan seemed to be impressed. Ivan. Gilbert frowns as he spares a glance towards his Lithuanian friend. He couldn’t help but notice as time drew on whenever Ivan was present Toris was stiff with… fear. It was disheartening. It was clear in his posture, the subtle shiver; it was stupid of him to not notice this even before; he would shut down and surrender in pity. Gilbert recognised it in himself once upon a time when there was a particularly brutal guard that had him twitching with tension whenever their eyes locked; for he never knew if there was going to be a fist to the jaw or a simple, one sided conversation.

Of course, he was only speculating; but he couldn’t help but his suspicions as Toris stopped laughing whenever Ivan appeared, his complexion a deathly pale that just screamed odd behaviour, even for him.

Gilbert grit his teeth, he knew it was none of his business; but they were friends and Gilbert cared for Toris, more than he’d care to admit. The silence was bursting at the seams and Gilbert couldn’t take the pressure any more that nobody was doing anything about Ivan’s behaviour, mr big wig or not; they are all human. They were equals. Ivan didn’t seem to share those same views.

“Toris.” Gilbert stated sternly.

“Can we talk?”

“Hm? Uh, sure. What do you want to talk about?” Toris’s voice was uneasy, caused by the sternness in Gilbert’s question.

“I can’t help but notice whenever Ivan is near you, you tense with fear. I know what fear looks like. What has he done to you to make you feel so.. insignificant? I only ask because I’m concerned as your friend and I want what’s best for you.” Gilbert assured, no longer paying attention to the work that had to be done by the end of the day.

Toris felt his heart drop and his body grow cold. Had he really been so obvious? What could even say? 

“He’s a frightening man, is all. I mean, you’ve seen the КПСС badge he has he could say one word to the people he knows and disappear any one of us. I cannot be taken away, not when my little brother relies on me to take care of him.” Toris manages. 

Gilbert balls his hands into fists, frustrated by Toris negative mind set.

“That’s still no reason to fear that  _ coward _ ! He uses power and his fists to get what he wants but not anymore!” Gilbert snarls and abruptly stands up, the chair he was just sitting on toppling over with the momentum.

Toris jumps, eyes widening with shock. 

“Gilbert, please, lower your voice. I know it must be frustrating for you but please, do not cause a scene.” Toris pleads. 

Toris plea falls on deaf ears as Gilbert is fizzling with confrontation, glaring at the Lithuanian man. “A scene? You want a scene?!’ Gilbert didn’t seem like he was going to lower down his voice any time soon, kicking the fallen chair out of the way as he leaves the confined desk area.

“No,” Toris whispers before sighing, “I said no scene.” 

“Well, too late. I’m going to give  _ Mr. Braginski  _ a piece of my fist. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. All I’ll just say if the bigwigs question I was simply protecting my friend.” Gilbert assured, for now he was half way down the hallway.

Too frightened to stop his friend, Toris could only watch in silent horror as his mind ran with all the possible consequences Gilbert would face because of this. All the possible consequences he himself would face for letting Gilbert know he was frightened of their boss. 

Gilbert makes his way over to Ivan’s office; thankfully no one had come his way. 

Toris had no right to be treated the way he was being treated.

He had no reason, nothing for Ivan to excuse his behaviour apart from being  _ just because he can. _ Gilbert was sick of it. Sick of Ivan’s attitude. So what, if he was tall, had power and money? it just makes it all the more easy for people like Ivan to get away with it and continue this behaviour. Sure, he was nothing, but he had to do at least something about it. He couldn’t sit any longer and watch as Toris twitched with misery.

He knew what he was getting himself into, but it was the right thing. That’s all that mattered.

Gilbert wasted no time on knocking on the door with innocent politeness and pushed the door violently open, for sure there would have been a dent in the wall when it made contact.

Gilbert cleared his throat aggravatingly loud before shouting; “Ivan!’ stepping into the office boldly to glare heatedly at the man at the desk. “I don’t think you’ve ever been told this before to the face, but I’d just like you to know that you're a pathetic piece of shit with no excuses. I’m not going to give you a lecture, since you and I both know that you know what you’re doing is wrong but you still do it regardless. Enough is enough.” 

Gilbert snarled, his feathers bristled as he approached the desk, at which Ivan remained unmoving which was a little unsettling.

Ivan leaned back in his chair slightly, face unamused. He waited to see if the man before him would continue with his incessant yelling. 

Gilbert remained unrelenting with his intense glare and hunched shoulders.

“Well?! Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I see now why you were caught. I wonder if they sent you out to the Eastern front because they actually thought you could somehow be useful or if it was a way to condemn you to death for being so annoying.” Ivan slowly stands up, placing his hands on the desk before him and leaning forward slightly. The intensity in his gaze and the pressure in his jaw were the epitome of severity and danger. “Here is what we aren’t going to do. You are not going to address me by my first name, and I may not put you through that wall. Come to think of it, the amount of disrespect you have shown me in just these few seconds warrants forcing your small body to go through the cinderblock.” 

A small smile appears on Ivan’s face as he stands upright. 

“I think I’m going to show you a few of my cards in this little game of ours. I’ve been tasked with watching over you, do not think for a second the state has forgotten about you because you were released from prison. One word from me and they will send you up North to die in the mines. Do not think for a second, fascist whore, that I would not do such a thing. I recommend that you start acquiescing to me.” 

The threat didn’t go unnoticed by Gilbert as he shriveled up with tension, for right now; he could understand Toris’s fear as his courage began to wilt by the reality of Ivan’s words.

“I’m not a fascist, not anymore.”

His voice sounded meek, small. 

“Aww,” Ivan cocks his head to the side in feigned pity, “where did all of your bravado go? Do not tell me I scared you.” His voice was patronizing, as if he were talking to a small child or a dog. 

The anger was brief and tense, flickering as if somebody was struggling to set fire to wet wood. Gilbert’s shoulders shook as he glared heatedly at the amused man infront of him, his brows twitching. “It is not you that scares me, but the thought of going back to prison.’

“And what you have failed to notice, little mouse, is that your greatest fear and I are one in the same. Take a seat.” Ivan gestures to the chair in front of his desk. 

Gilbert couldn’t tell where this was going, cautiously approaching the chair and taking a seat willingly. Gilbert wasn’t going to admit that Ivan was right about one thing.

With a smirk Ivan slowly leaves his standing position in front of Gilbert in favor of walking around the desk, placing himself ominously behind the seated man. 

“Tell me what you have learned today, and what you will no longer do.” Ivan commands in a dark voice. 

Gilbert’s eyes watched Ivan as far as they could go, his hands curling into fists at the given order. ‘“I don’t know what I’ve learned today,  _ sir _ . It slips my mind. I can’t seem to think with you breathing down my neck like that.”

“Hmm, my my how did you ever survive prison.” Ivan places two large hands on Gilbert’s shoulders. “Think about your job here. It would be such a shame if one of those pale hands found itself broken. Or, perhaps it would mean more to you if you came into work tomorrow to find that Toris had broken his wrist because of his clumsiness.” Ivan could hardly keep the amused smile off of his face. 

Gilbert couldn’t stop the flinch as his hands rest on his shoulders. Gilbert didn’t approve of the touching; but there was nothing he could do. Gilbert bites his lip, wanting to call Ivan a coward for bringing in other people, let alone his friend. 

Gilbert couldn’t let himself be the reason for Toris to be brutally hurt by Ivan. It would stand against everything.

“I will not address you by your first name. ‘

“And a formidable lesson at that. Whatever damage you have caused by recklessly throwing a tantrum at the front desk will come out of your pay this week. Leave my sight.” Ivan steps back to the side of his desk he was standing at before, and sits down in the chair. 

Gilbert didn’t need to be told twice. Eager to leave the office room, Gilbert exists out in just a few short strides, keeping his head low to prevent anymore confrontation. Gilbert wasn’t to sure were his feet were going, but he realised he was back inside the lobby.

“Gilbert!” Toris runs up to the white-haired man and grips his arms. “Are you alright? What happened I was so worried?” 

Gilbert felt jostled as he tried to brush off Toris’ hands. 

What was with Toris and Ivan touching?

‘‘I’m fine, I’m fine. Well, everything but my pride.’

Toris pulls his hands away and sighs somberly. 

“I tried to warn you, truly, I did. He has a way with people, you know? He knows what people fear, what makes them insecure, what makes them want to die and he exploits it. To survive here you have to be submissive to him. I know it sucks, trust me, but it’s just easier to do as he says rather than fight him.”

The brunette walks back over to the front desk and sits down, waiting for Gilbert to do the same before speaking up. 

“I’m glad you are okay. . . For what it’s worth, thank you. No one really stands up for my honor, it means a lot to me that you would try.” 

"Hey, don't thank me for it. Someone had to do it." Gilbert flashed a grin, noticing the toppled over chair was right up again. Gilbert walked over and sat down next to the old typewriter, the soft clicking of buttons from the machine the only thing to be heard as Gilbert continued the neglected work. 

Toris allows a small smile to mark his face as he watches Gilbert type for a few moments. It sure is nice to have a friend here. 

As the days began to span on, Gilbert noticed he was attracting negative attention from Ivan more and more. He had a suspicion it was all due to his outburst, however it probably would have happened eventually. It started with little things. A lunch break shortened here, unpaid overtime there, odd jobs that were not a part of the original job description randomly tacked on to Gilbert’s usual work load. With the threat of the mines looming heavy over his head, Gilbert thought twice about approaching Mr. Braginski about this even in a calm and cool manner. 

The feeling that Mr. Braginski had won was eating away at Gilbert’s soul. He was clearly never one to bow down to those who were no better then him except for the fact they wielded some sort of power that was earned artificially. He still couldn’t help the glint of rebellion that flashed through his eyes everytime the large Russian told him to do something with that cocky amused grin of his. It wasn’t until Toris accidentally mixed up some paperwork that Gilbert saw more of the twisted nature of his boss. 

It was the fear. Over something so simple, the utter anguish that Toris had. 

“Damnit.” Toris says in a soft voice while rummaging through the file cabinets. “No, no, I stamped the wrong date on these.” Frantically he pulls a few files out and places them on the desk. “These are all wrong.” 

Gilbert frowned, looking over the dates for Toris fear to be correct.

They were all wrong.

But so severely?

Gilbert rested a reassuring hand on the Lithuanian to pull him out of his panicked state. A gesture of comfort.

"Hey, hey. Chill, Toris. Deep breaths. Listen, if Ivan asks about it, blame it on me. What's the worst Ivan could do than with a little scolding?"

“I-I don’t think you understand, Gilbert. He really, really doesn’t like mistakes. Especially if it means reprinting all this paper and wasting more ink to fix all the problems. I couldn’t ask for you to take my place knowing what he may do.” Toris’s voice tapers off into a whisper as he finishes his statement. 

"You say that like I haven't been to prison for 15 years in the shittiest country going." Gilbert chuckles, gently nudging the brunette. "May as well start typing out now, i'll be down at five and help out where you've left off. You're buying me a beer." Gilbert says, walking out of the little desk area that's almost become like a second home.

Toris opens his mouth to protest but shuts it as he watches Gilbert walk away. He may need more than a few beers if Mr. Braginski is in a bad mood today. 

Gilbert had no idea what to expect by the time he reached Mr Braginski’s office, his arm reaching out to have his knuckles rasp on the door a few times, a respectable silence as he waited to be let in.

With a heavy sigh Ivan leans back into his office chair, clasping his hands together on the desk before him. “It’s open.” He calls. 

Gilbert enters the room, closing the door behind him; it was now that Gilbert felt the tension grow thick in the air as he felt the small hairs of his neck and arms stand on end. He may as well cut to the chase. The albino clears his throat.

“Sir, I have unfortunate news.. I have made multiple errors with the dates worth a months of work— but not to worry, were working on it right now as we speak.”

“A month's worth? And you only just now caught that grave error?” Ivan’s voice is on edge, eyebrows raising slightly at the audacity of Gilbert’s incompetence. 

Gilbert lowers his head down respectfully.

“Yes, Sir.”

Gilbert reassured Ivan’s statement.

“There are two of you up there for a reason, to prevent things like this from happening. I’m sure you have noticed by now that I am quite the perfectionist and when things go poorly, even if just slightly, I am put in a very sour mood.” 

Ivan slowly stands from his seat before cracking the knuckles on his right hand. 

“Be a doll and lock the door behind you.” 

Locked? Why did it have to be locked?

Gilbert pursed his lips, watching as Ivan cracked his knuckles, the bones popping loud.

Another strategy of intimidation?

Gilbert didn’t appreciate being called a doll, but he obeyed the command and locked the door. 

“You see this bottle of ink here.” Ivan says while gesturing to a bottle on his desk. “Seven ounces of jet black ink rest inside of it. Maybe a tad more ink than what was used on these incorrect documents, but definitely enough to cover these and all the reprints. You might as well have just,” he tips the bottle over, allowing for its contents to spill out on the desk, “done that.” 

Ivan’s glare returns to Gilbert with invigorated intensity. 

“So just like these documents I expect you to clean up this mistake.” 

Gilbert's eyes widened as he watched the glass vile spill it's contents and splurge on the wooden surface, before the black ink oozed and began to spot on the red cushioned carpet, watching it bleed into the soft material that had Gilbert jerking into action, grabbing the neck of the bottle to turn it up right and save what was left of it. 

The ink continued to spread over the edge as Gilbert tried to stop it with his hands. It probably wasn't the smartest idea, given how notorious ink was when it came to staining the skin and into its pores. 

" _ Sir!  _ We could have used that ink!" 

“Oh yes, we could have. What a shame.” Ivan crosses his arms and shifts his weight to one hip. “Don’t be shy, clean it up.” 

Gilbert wasn't getting anywhere as his hands were soaked with black ink. His head jerked up. 

"B-but Sir, I locked the door." Gilbert despised how his voice lost its calm demeanour. 

Ivan’s face contorted into something more sinister as a sadistic smirk formed his lips. 

“You have everything you need to clean this with you already. Here, I’ll help you get started.” Ivan approaches Gilbert, allows a moment of stillness to pass between them, before roughly placing a hand on the smaller man’s back and pushing him down onto the desk. “You have a perfectly good mouth to use.” 

Gilbert's jaw tightens as he's forced to bend down, the left side of his face smearing with black ink as his eyes stung with pain that had Gilbert groaning with discomfort, his arms flailing wild as he tried to grab at Ivan blindly as panic surged through him. 

The taste of ink was bitter in his mouth the harder he felt Ivan push his weight down on him, felt the tips of his nails catching onto something soft, he wasn't sure what, but anything to get this crazy fucker off him. 

"Get off of me, you bastard!" Gilbert cursed, trying to push against Ivans heavy weight that left him trembling. 

While easily holding down the flailing albino with one hand, Ivan softly traces his right cheek where Gilbert had managed to scratch him. Hm. Feisty little thing. 

“I suggest you stop yelling and get to work. Do not make me ask you again.” Ivan’s voice is biting, low but intense. 

Gilbert snarls, black tears rolling down his cheeks as his eyes stung from the burning pain, blinking rapidly to get the ink out. Gilbert didn't relent. 

"I'll clean it! But not the way you want me to!" 

“Oh, I’m sorry, what about my demeanor tells you that you have a choice here?” Ivan practically growls while grabbing a fist full of Gilbert’s hair and pulling him back up into a standing position. Before the white-haired man even has the chance to make a rebuttal Ivan covers his nose and mouth with a large hand, cutting off his ability to breathe. “Clearly your mouth is useless here. I do not like useless things.”

Gilbert yells with abrupt pain as Ivan pull at the white strands of hair, his scalp sensitive as he's pulled back to his feet, stumbling forward as Ivan presses a hand to his mouth and nose, half way about to suck in a breath of air before it was cut off. 

His back was crushed as he felt the rapid need to breathe air, panic stricken as his hands land on Ivans soft skull, grasping a fistful of his hair as he tugged on the wefts, could feel his eyes grow heavy with the lack of oxygen entering his lungs. 

With a bruising grip Ivan wraps his other hand around Gilbert’s wrist and forces his arm down. 

“You are incredibly spirited, little mouse, but that will not last long. I bet those beautiful eyes of yours are fluttering to stay open.” Ivan almost has laughter in his voice as he revels in the thought of Gilbert falling faint. 

The laughter was sinister as Gilbert felt his body grow heavy, chest convulsing as the corners of the room began to grow dim and numb, his knees weakening as he felt his whole body  _ tremble _ as he could feel it shutting down. 

And he couldn't do anything about it. 

This was it. 

He was going to die. 

Ivan removes his hand from Gilbert’s mouth just before the brink of collapse. Again, he pushes Gilbert down roughly into the ink on the desk. 

“Will you be good for me now?” 

Gilbert eagerly sucks in the neglected oxygen, moaning as his head connects with the desk for a second time as he sags from exhaustion. 

"Y-yes…" 

Gilbert murmured; knowing Ivan wouldn't be satisfied by his words alone. 

He couldn't even think. He almost just  _ died _ . 

Drinking ink was better than dying, Gilbert decided. 

Defeated, Gilbert dipped his tongue in the ink, gagging, but continued onwards as he pursed his lips like he was kissing the desk, breathing heavily through his nose as he slurped loud. The sound obscure to his ears. All Gilbert could do was hope if this was enough for the sadistic man. 

“Just like that, good boy.” Ivan praises. So the wild stallion could be tamed after all. And to think only by seven ounces of ink. “I hope it is painfully clear to you now that you must obey me at every turn. When I say jump your reply should be how high.” 

Once Ivan is satisfied with how the black ink has spread all around Gilbert’s mouth he pulls his hair one last time, moving him from over the desk and tossing him to the floor. 

“What did you learn today?” Ivan’s voice was calm and smooth, like he hadn’t just violently made Gilbert ingest something he probably shouldn’t have.

Another groan falls past his black stained lips as Ivan tugs on the sensitive scalp, falling to his knees as he wrecked, dry heaving fell into a fatal position. 

"N-never make a mistake. Ever." 

“Exactly.” Ivan returns to sit at his desk. “It is nearing six in the evening, get up and go back to the front desk. You can check out and go home.” 

Gilbert grit his teeth and stood up on wobbly legs, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he makes no hesitation to leave the office. 

Ivan looks up one more time, smirking as he watches Gilbert leave. He may have to get him to make mistakes more often. This will surely be fun for a while. 


	3. Chapter 3

Nervously Toris sits silently at the front desk, waiting for his friend to return. The linemen and engineers have been let out early, which can only mean that Mr. Braginski did something physical to Gilbert. Guilt eats away at his stomach as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He should have stopped him. It wasn’t his punishment to take. . . Yet, perhaps it is better than Gilbert knows now. Maybe he will be less reckless when it comes to their boss.

Gilbert made it to the lobby area and into the little cubical area, he and Toris called home. He gave the Lithuanian man a nervous smile as he reached for his winter coat, gloves, and hat. 

"See? That wasn't that bad. I lived another day." Gilbert reassured Toris. 

Taken back by the black stains over Gilbert’s face and hair, Toris remains silent for a few moments before hesitantly speaking up. 

“You really didn’t have to do that for me. . . Come on, let me make you dinner. I have plenty of alcohol at my place.” He offers. 

"What about stealing your hot water for a shower?" Gilbert grins.

Toris smiles brightly. 

“Of course. Come on.” Toris gathers his things before gesturing for Gilbert to follow him. The snow flitters lightly to the ground as they walk away from the factory on the snow-covered concrete. The walk to Toris’s house only takes about fifteen minutes along a mostly straight path filled with soft snow. The crunching and shifting of the snow beneath their boots fill the air with sound as they walk in silence. Toris’s mind reels for things he could say. Should he ask about what happened? Should he apologize? Should he pretend it never happened and just move on? By the time Toris decides to say something, they have already reached the tall apartment complex. 

“I hope you like shchi. My brother tends to make it whenever I’m home late.” Toris says while using a key to get into the lobby of the building. 

"Yeah, that's fine. I ain't picky." Gilbert reassured Toris. The wet ink was now dry and he knew he'd have to put his clothes in the washing machine. 

The apartment was cold and a bit dim, but strangely inviting. The hearty smell of vegetables hung in the air as Toris took his coat off. 

“The bathroom is down the hall to the left. Feel free to take as much time as you need. I’ll get you a change of clothes if you’d like.” Toris offers. 

“Thanks, I’ll be as quick as I can,” Gilbert said. Helping himself into the bathroom to close the door over, once alone, he sighed; leaning over the small bathtub to get the hot water running.

He hasn’t had the chance to properly look at the damage Ivan caused him, glancing to the small cabinet mirror on the wall. He sucked in a breath and cringed, half of his hair was dyed black and splotchy. He couldn’t help but step closer and open his mouth, his tongue running along his gums to see the teeth also stained, his hands, it was a mess. Gilbert knew one shower wasn’t going to be enough to wash out the stains, so he’d be standing out a lot more than he already did. There was no win.

Toris sighs tiredly as he hears the water start in the bathroom. He hopes, prays even, that Gilbert will be alright. That confident attitude might be his downfall.

Gilbert peeled off his clothes and chucked them by the door, reaching out his hand to feel the heat coming from the water. Eagerly, Gilbert stepped inside and sighed with satisfaction. Given, there was only a little bit of ink coming off, but not as much as the albino would have liked. 

Motherfucking Ivan, over-privileged ass hole of a man.

Gilbert grabbed the soap, lathered his hands, and covered his scarred body with suds, before rinse and repeat.

Was that worth the backlash covering for Toris? it has to be, who knew what the Russian man did to Toris behind closed doors when nobody wasn’t looking. It was definitely worth it, there was no doubt about it.

Ivan has been getting away with this for who knows how long and everyone either turned a blind eye not wanting to get involved or just allowed it to happen. The longer it was ignored there was no stopping the chain. It had to be broken. 

But  _ The Mines. _

Gilbert shuddered despite being enveloped in warmth, the threat was evidently clear that he was always being watched, no matter where he went, no matter what he did. He will always live the life of looking behind his back, he was never safe. There was nowhere to call  _ home. _

Clean as Gilbert could possibly manage, he stepped out of the shower and turned it off, grabbing the soft white towel on the rack and rubbing it in his wet hair, chest, and genitals. Once thoroughly dry he wrapped the towel around his waist to step out as steam poured from the enclosed space. Gilbert smelt food, savory and delicious— 

Gilbert glanced left to right in the empty hallway before stepping into the small kitchen. While he was in the shower, the food had been placed on dinner plates face to face and glasses of warm kvass. Gilbert grinned, placing a hand on his hip as he raised a suspicious brow.

“You know, if I were queer my heart would totally be swooned by your efforts.” 

Toris blushes, pausing for a moment. 

“Oh, it isn’t that much.” He waves off, sitting down at the table. “This is my little brother, Raivis.” He gestures to a young boy quietly standing by the stove. 

“N-nice to meet you, sir,” Raivis says in a mousy voice. 

“Nice to meet you too, kid.” Gilbert nods in acknowledgment, before sitting down and fiddling on the wholesome food like a ravaged beast, a mouthful of vegetables as he blinked, looked up and realized;

“Ohh— Urh, sorry, wanted me to wait?”

“No, no, go ahead. I tend to get really famished after work as well. . . Raivis, do you have any homework?” 

“I do, yes.” 

“If you finish it tonight we can cut into that cake Ms. Arlovskaya gave us.” 

“R-really? Okay.” Raivis smiles lightly before scurrying off. Toris watches him leave before turning back toward Gilbert. 

“Are you alright?. . . what happened?” Toris asks in a small voice. 

Gilbert watches as the small kid leaves the kitchen, a small smile plastered on his face as he turns his attention back to Toris. 

This talk. 

It had been coming for a long mile. 

Gilbert grabbed the kvass, eager to numb his emotions as he tipped his head back before releasing the neck with a wet pop. 

"Eh, I've had worse done. Just a push and a shove. Nothing to be concerned about." 

Toris looks down, shrinking into himself a bit. 

“Well, I suppose if that is all he did then you should take my place more often.” He says with an uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t think I can thank you enough, really.” 

There was an undeniable flush that crossed Gilbert’s cheeks at the Lithuanian confession, coughing in his hand as he adjusted himself on the wooden chair.

“I wouldn’t mind, just as long as you supply me with the alcohol then we’re talking business.”

“Of course,” Toris laughs, “if that is all it takes. . . It’s just nice to have a friend at that place. . . Uh, so, were you married before all of this?” 

“Totally, I dunno how you survived by yourself for this long. Me, married? Pfffttt, no. I used to have a girlfriend though, she was Hungarian and she was the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on.” Gilbert swoons with a sad sight.”She probably doesn’t even remember me now, given how long it’s been. I had a brother too, his name was Ludwig.”

“Oh, I see. Have you ever tried contacting them? It’s okay if you wish not to talk about this, I can empathize with what that war has taken.” 

Another swig of the bitter alcohol. 

“It’s fine. It feels.. nice, talking about them. Makes my heart feel warm. I couldn’t try even if I wanted to, the last I heard from them was in Berlin before I was ordered to spy on Soviet Russia, you and I both know how that ended. It was one of the conditions I had to keep if I was allowed ‘freedom’. 

“I see. . . My own family was split up because of the war. My father was killed while my mother was pregnant with Raivis in ‘44. I lost my older brother shortly after and my mom. . . Well, we were able to find solace here in Russia, but she got sick not too long after and died. It’s just me and Raivis now.” 

Gilbert frowned with empathy. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Toris. But look at you now, you have a stable job, you have your little bro, you have a friend, what more could you ask for?" Gilbert tried to lighten the mood with a lopsided grin. 

Gilbert was very much awful at comforting. That much was clear. 

"Sorry- I'm just not used to... Well,  _ this."  _

Toris smiles, laughing softly. 

“It is alright. I do appreciate what I’ve been able to make for myself here. I’m just glad I still have Raivis. He’s the world to me. . . Anyway, so, am I your first friend outside of well, you know.” 

“Yeah, you're definitely my first friend. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to progress before this, but it was probably for the best. Nobody wants to do anything with a traitor, a criminal; or a popular name the officers in prison used to call me  _ урод _ . Maybe that’s why my own country sent me here in hopes I’d die.”

Gilbert shrugs absentmindedly.

Toris bits his lower lip. That’s right. It’s not like Gilbert went to prison because he was wronged by the state. He was a Nazi. . . The same people who killed his father and brother, who indirectly led to the death of his mother. . . Toris was conflicted, trying to marry the idea of Gilbert working for the Nazis and the man he sees before him now. 

“Hmm.” 

“A-anyway, I’ve changed now. I’m not who I was 16 years ago. I’m a changed man and I regret the choices I made. I know my apology can only mean do so much for you and they can’t bring back your family.”

Gilbert frowned, paused.

“You know what? I think I’ll head back home now, is it okay if I take the kvass with me?” Gilbert said, standing up and his knee hitting the corner as it shook, hissing as he hobbled over to the bathroom to fetch his clothes.

Toris watches the man scramble about for a few moments before standing and following him to the bathroom, ultimately blocking Gilbert’s way out of the small room. 

“Gilbert, I insist you stay. You’ve paid enough for what you did, I am not here to add to it.” He says softly. 

Gilbert didn’t notice Toris had followed him as he rushed to put his shirt on, getting stuck halfway as he heard the man, jumping in alarm. He appreciated the fact his shirt covered his head.

“You and I both know for as long as I live it’ll never be enough. It’s a fact. You pay blood with blood.” Gilbert grit his teeth, pulling the shirt over his chest; his back facing Toris as he couldn’t look at the man directly in his eyes. He was pathetic. 

“I’m not going to sit here and try to make you feel better about what you did, or say that it was okay because it wasn’t. . . But. . . You didn’t even hesitate today. Without question you stood up and took my place with no deference to what could have happened to you. . . After all I’ve been through I cannot see things in absolutes. You are not pure evil, and I am not pure good. Things are. . . complicated. And I appreciate what you did for me.” Toris admits, crossing his arms and casting his gaze downward. 

Gilbert was glad Toris couldn't see him, but it started happening before he could even stop it. It was getting difficult to hold back a shriveled, undignified sob, a wet sniff as he crossed his arms to put a hand to his face in embarrassment, his eyes feeling wet.

‘Please, get out. I don’t want you to look at me right now.”

Toris bites his lip, feeling his chest tighten. 

“. . . I’ll be outside.” He says softly, closing the door to the bathroom and leaning against the opposite wall. The last thing he wanted to do was make Gilbert cry. This is obviously still a sore spot for the man, he did just get out of prison. He might not have had time to really process everything. 

Toris crosses his arms and looks down at the carpeted floor. 

Even as Toris closed the door behind him, Gilbert tightened his jaw as he was still trying to hold back, sitting on the closed toilet sleet as he silently wept, for he did not want Toris to hear him wallow with self-pity.

Should he knock and ask if he’s okay? Perhaps not, Toris thinks, he’ll let him have a few more moments before trying to comfort his friend. 

As a few more moments pass Toris walks back into the kitchen and pulls out the cake that was gifted to them. Delicately he cuts two pieces from it and puts them on a plate with a fork. He walks into Raivis’ room and smiles. 

“Hey, ready for some cake?” He asks. 

“I’m always ready for cake,” Raivis says with a smile on his face. Toris places the plate on the desk before sighing heavily. “Hey, your friend? He looks kind of strange.” 

Toris smiles a bit and leans against the wall. 

“I guess he does. But do not say anything like that to him.” 

“O-oh I wasn’t planning on it. He seems nice.” 

“He is. . .” Toris sighs out, looking toward the bathroom. 

It wasn’t until twenty minutes later Gilbert emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, the corners of his eyes swollen and brimmed red as he left the bathroom, scratching behind his ear awkwardly as he entered the kitchen.

“Hey, uh.. sorry for ruining your evenin’.”

“It’s okay. I know these things are probably difficult for you to talk about. . . Would you like some cake?” Toris asks. 

“Yeah, I’d love some.” Gilbert grinned, approaching the table as he smiled at the two brothers. “So, kid, what was your homework about?”

“U-um, I’m learning about how to add fractions,” Raivis answers meekly. 

“I didn’t pay attention much at school, but boy, was I good at fractions. Do you know if you’ve gotten them all right?’ Gilbert enquired, cutting a slice of the frosted cake as he leaned on the counter. “I can help you get them all right before you have to give it to the teacher, assuming your brother doesn’t check afterward and goes straight to bed.” Gilbert grins.

“Th-thank you, sir. That is very kind of you.” The boy stutters while pushing his homework closer to Gilbert. Toris smiles and once more feels conflicted. This man truly is something else.

“Hey now, just call me Gilbert,” Gilbert reassured the boy, approaching the table and leaning over to peer at the paper, picking it up.

The kid had messy handwriting, but it wasn’t so much it was hard enough to read ss his eyes followed down to the paper, humming and nodding as he bypassed them.

Gilbert smiles, genuinely amazed as he ruffles the sandy blonde hair.

“I think we have a young genius on our hands, Toris!” 

Gilbert praises, pulling back his arm and setting the paper back down.

Raivis blushes heavily, pressing his knees together and shrinking into himself. 

"Oh, trust me, I know he's a smart cookie." Toris laughs. 

Gilbert nods, resuming back to the white frosted cake. It was really, really nice. 

"Hey, did you buy this at a bakery? This is really good." 

"Oh, no, the store by us hardly ever has an actual cake like this. Mr. Braginski has a half-sister that also works at the factory as the head engineer. Her name is Nataliya, she was the one to gift us the cake." Toris explains. 

"Which means she h-has a crush on you," Raivis comments softly. 

Gilbert pressed a finger to his chin, vaguely remembering the name. 

It hit him. 

"Oh! The big boob woman?!" Gilbert grins, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively at Toris as he teased. 

"My heart swoons for you, Toris. I love you so much! Take this cake as gratitude or my love. " Gilbert sprawls out on the table, head dipped back dramatically. 

"Wow, if she baked you a cake, there has to be some sort of feelings going on between you both. I didn't know why I've never noticed it before!" Gilbert says, leaning in towards Toris. 

Toris blushes considerably before managing a response. 

“Uh, not quite, Nataliya is her sister. I’m not sure if you have met her before, she tends to work with the linemen. . . I-I could never make a move on her, Mr. Braginski is very protective of his sisters.” 

"Yeah... That much is clear. I kinda find it weird how close they are. But who am I to judge?" Gilbert shrugs. "At least she's a good cook. Maybe if I ever meet her ill compliment her cooking skills, that'd definitely get off on the right foot, right?" 

“Perhaps,” Toris says, desperately trying to get the blush off of his face in vain. 

Gilbert smiles.

"Well then, I'll be off then, thanks again for having me over." Gilbert says, grabbing his coat, hat, and gloves to wish the Ravis and Toris a "Goodnight."


	4. Chapter 4

It was another day of work. Gilbert had become accustomed to his job, another month had gone by without any incident and not a peep was heard from Mr. Bragnski’s office. It made Gilbert wonder if the man was actually inside of his office and neglecting his work. 

It wouldn't surprise him, though. 

Even after two months of working for the company, Gilbert still has yet to meet Toris's crush. His secret admirer. 

"What are you and Raivis gonna have for dinner tonight, then?" Gilbert enquired, his wrists moving swiftly as his fingers pressed down on the bulky keys fast. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. He loves making chanakhi, but that is a lot of ingredients I cannot get right now.” Toris sighs and rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure where the boy expects me to buy lamb at the moment, goodness forbid paprika.” 

"Let the kid dream. Hey, maybe we can do something for Ravis after our next paycheck? Combine our money together. I know some bitches really get their feathers ruffled whenever there's paprika involved." Gilbert suggested, sniggering to himself. 

Toris smiles. 

“Really? That is so kind of you, he would be ecstatic.” 

Before Toris can continue, the door leading out to the factory opens and a woman steps out, wearing one of the gray uniforms typically seen on the engineers. Her long, platinum blonde hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs out framing her face. She approaches the front desk and leans against it. 

“What are you losers up to?” She asks. 

“Hey, Nataliya.” Toris answers. 

Gilbert's brow twitches at being called a loser, totally not appreciating it at all, about to make a snide remark before his jaw opened wide like a gaping fish. 

"OOooooh… So your Natalyia, huh?" Gilbert grabs Toris and makes him stand up. Who knew Toris was into this kinda woman; she definitely gave off stand-off vibes, yet that didn't deteriorate Gilbert from making his match-making skills put to perfect use. 

Gilbert knew how much Toris pined for the woman. 

"That urh, cake you made ages ago was super nice. Right, Toris? I swear this man said he'd love a second round." Gilbert grinned, making Toris lean forward on the desk, patting his back. 

Toris was visibly horrified, his entire face completely flushed. Nataliya looks between them before a cruel smirk marks her face. 

“Oh really? I thought you said you didn’t care much for the cake.” 

“I-I, um, it was, uh, yeah I mean the cake you made was better than the cakes I, uh, normally have.” Toris manages. 

“Mhm, well perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I made you another. But, that one won’t be free.” Her devious smile oddly resembles Mr. Braginski’s as she revels in Toris’s obvious discomfort. 

Gilbert bites his lip and sucks in through his teeth, almost face-palming with how dense Toris's response was, but Nataliya seemed to catch on fast. It was almost admirable, leaning down to whisper in his ear. 

"Go on, she's practically asking for it! Take this chance!" Gilbert pressured, leaning back to give the Lithuanian man some room to breathe. 

Nataliya watches the two men, taking a pen off the front desk putting the very end of it in between her teeth. 

“Uh, th-that would be nice of you, Nataliya. What would you want me to do?” 

She smiles and puts the pen back down on the desk. 

“Have dinner with me some time.” 

Gilbert giggled like a schoolgirl, despite being 40 years old. He was overjoyed for his friend, slinking out of the little cubical to withdraw himself from the scene. "I'll catch you in a bit, Toris. Need a tinkle. Don't have too much fun while I'm gone!" ”

Toris nervously watches as Gilbert leaves him alone before turning back to Nataliya, a small smile forming on his face. 

Minutes later, Gilbert returns after washing his hands, turning around the corner to see the desk.. Empty. 

Gilbert quirks up an eyebrow and grins, what a sly dog. 

"Knew you had it in you." 

“Gilbert!” Katya exclaims before rushing over to the front desk. “Have you seen Toris around? I wanted to ask about a few documents. Nataliya doesn’t know where he went either.” 

Gilbert frowns, concerned. 

"No, I literally just left for the bathroom a few minutes ago.. He's not with the chick?" Gilbert suddenly realizes.

If Toris wasn't here, nor with Katya or even Nataliya.. 

"Ivan. Where is he?" Gilbert urgently asks. 

“Uhh, probably in his office?” Katya says slowly. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

"You don't-- I don't have time for this!" there was an exasperated, frustrated sigh as Gilbert began to walk swiftly to Ivan's office. His chest was pounding loudly and his ears burned with hot blood. 

Had Ivan walked in on the unfortunate moment of Toris and Natalyia kissing? Gilbert was filled with nothing but dread and anxiety, didn't even think about knocking on the door as he plunged himself into the office, breathless. 

" _ Ivan!" _

Shit. His name left his mouth before he could even stop it from happening. 

The sight was unusual for sure. Toris was pressed against the wall, the upper part of his left cheek already bruising. Ivan had a hand around his throat, but it loosened at Gilbert’s outburst. The look on Toris’s face was one of utter fear - Ivan looked mildly irritated. 

“And again, he bursts through the door.” Ivan sighs out. 

Gilbert didn't seem to notice the irritation lingering off the Russian man, his senses going blind as he zoned in on the bulging, dark beauty on Tori's face. It looked like it hurt. A lot. Gilbert grits his teeth. 

This time, it wasn't even Tori's fault. It was nothing but his own. 

"The fuck you think you're doing, abusing your worker?" Gilbert snarled, approaching Ivan with heat in his eyes. "Is this about your sister? News flash." Gilbert snarled, yanking on Ivans sleeve so his hand no longer touched the Lithuanians throat. 

"It was  _ my _ fault.  _ I _ pushed Toris."

"Oh? Playing the hero now are we?" Ivan asks with a sadistic smirk.

"G-Gilbert, please, don't get involved. I'll be okay." Toris gasps out. 

"I'm not going anywhere." Gilbert declares, glaring up and challenging Ivan. "Let Toris go. Leave him alone; if you want to pick on anyone it should be me." Gilbert said with a curl of his lip. "Not because I want to play the hero, but because I have moral standards and don't pick on decent people." 

"You heard the man Toris," Ivan begins, "run along. Lock the door behind you." 

Toris looks wide-eyed between the two men before hurrying off, following Ivan's instructions. 

Once that lock clicks on the door, Ivan turns to Gilbert with a malicious expression. 

"Must you always be so brash?" 

Gilbert remained standing, unwavering even as the door clicked and sealed his fate. He would be lying to himself if he wasn't scared, only a dead man walking felt no fear of death. He couldn't let Ivan see the fear, knowing he'd take advantage of it and exploit it. 

"I think you're meant to say  _ honest."  _

Ivan sighs, cracking the knuckles on his right hand before attempting to punch the smaller man. 

Gilbert sees it happening, goading Ivan into violence as he ducks and side steps, releasing a huff of laughter as adrenaline runs through his veins. It was clear who was at the advantage, but Gilbert could all but try and slow the man down long enough to subdue him. 

Wishful thinking, of course. 

Gilbert wasn't thinking rationally anymore. 

"Ha. That all you got? I swear my mom punches better than that." 

Ivan was pissed alright. The absolute audacity of the albino man seemed to know no bounds. He had been going easy on him the last couple of months he had been working here. Perhaps it was time to really show him what it meant to work under Ivan Braginski.

Stepping forward and reaching out, Ivan gripped the white hair before him and pressed the man roughly into the wall.

Gilbert was too slow, groaning as his face smashed against the wall, his eyes seeing stars as he braced himself, feeling suffocated as Ivan's body mass pressed into him with all his might. Gilbert wasn't ready to give up. Gilbert squirmed and resorted to flailing his arms.

He was able to get a good hit in the stomach, but that hardly seemed to faze Ivan at all. As Gilbert struggled Ivan placed a strong hand on the poor man’s back before managing to grab one of his flailing wrists and pulling upwards. With just a swift movement Ivan could do some serious damage to Gilbert’s arm but holds it just before the breaking point. Great discomfort, but nothing has broken yet. 

“I suggest you calm down, and really think about what you’re doing.” Ivan threatens. 

Gilbert groans with utmost discomfort, realizing with panic he was fucked if he didn’t listen to the man. Gilbert was for all protecting his friend, but for a broken arm? Gilbert stills, panting through his nose as he remained immobile, the blood pounding in his ears. He could only just about hear Ivan’s warning as he tried to not concentrate on the immense pain in his arms. 

“Okay--  _ okay _ !” Gilbert wheezes. 

Ivan remained unrelenting, keeping Gilbert in the agonizing hold. 

“What exactly did you hope to accomplish by barging in here? Telling me you have yet to learn a single thing while working here?” 

Gilbert was thankful Ivan couldn’t see his face, tears brimming the corners of his eyes that had yet to fall as he moaned with pain; “I had to stop you-- it was my fault, goading Toris. I don’t know what shit you’ve done to him to make you fear you, but you leave him alone.” Gilbert tightens his jaw. “If you have a problem with him,  _ you  _ come to me.”

“Why do you care so much for a man you hardly know? If I didn’t know any better I’d either think you liked to be punished, or you liked him. Either way, this will not end well for you.” 

Ivan was, without a doubt, thoroughly enjoying the turn of events. Who knew that this man he was tasked with watching over could be so fun to mess with. 

“Are you suggesting I’m queer?” Gilbert's feathers bristled. “I-I just think Toris is a good man who doesn’t deserve to be manipulated. Is it because you're jealous of him, that’s why you pick on him so much?”

“Now,” Ivan holds back a laugh, lifting Gilbert’s arm up a bit to cause more pain, “why would I be jealous of that person I can hardly call a man? Perhaps that is why you like him so much. He is like a damsel to you, no?” 

Gilbert groans, louder this time. His arms felt as if they were getting licked by flames of fire. 

Fuck, it hurt so much. The pain spread so much it was practically too hard to ignore as Gilbert clenched his jaw.

“He’s my friend, n-not a damsel.” Gilbert stuttered, absolutely despising how small his voice strained against the uncomfortable pulling. 

“Hm, well if you insist on taking his place for what I was going to do to him fine.” Ivan releases his hold only to push Gilbert toward the desk. “I’m not sure you know what you are asking for.” His voice is dark as he begins undoing his own belt. 

Gilbert sighed with relief as he was released, stumbling forward as he rolled his aching shoulders to turn and glare at Ivan. “You're going to beat me black and blue with your belt? Go for it.” Gilbert snidely remarks. 

Ivan’s smile only widens. 

“Not quite, little mouse.” Slowly, Ivan begins to approach Gilbert, aiming to back him up against the desk.

Gilbert felt threatened, the only place he had to go was backward and he backed up into the desk, expression perplexed as he wondered what was going to happen; the fuck was Ivan up to? 

The fear and uncertainty in the smaller man’s eyes only pushed Ivan forward as he grabbed Gilbert’s shoulder with a bruising grip and forcefully turned him around. Much too similar to the encounter marked by ink, Ivan pushed Gilbert over the desk - this time quite mindful of the man’s flailing capabilities. 

His belt was given a different task and found itself being wrapped around Gilbert’s wrists, pulling them behind his back. 

Even as the thick, leather belt found its biting grip into Gilbert’s slender wrists; he still had no idea what to expect, it wasn’t until Ivan pressed against his ass did he realize Ivan was  _ hard. _

Gilbert paled and choked on nothing but air, so this-- this is what he did to Toris? 

“You nasty, nasty motherfucker.” Gilbert snarls, his heart racing like a wild rabbit- he didn’t  _ want _ this; but it was the whole point, why Ivan was enjoying this so much.

“You… you get that thing away from me, or you’ll know what’s best for you.” 

_ Really _ ? Was that the best he could do?

“Aww,” There is that patronizing voice again “what are you going to do? Scream at me?” Ivan chuckles as he begins working on the belt around Gilbert’s hips. “Remember - you wanted this. You could have just as easily minded your own business. Yet here you are.” Ivan pulls the belt out of its loops in a single movement and casts it off somewhere. He isn’t as meticulous with Gilbert’s pants, however, and ends up ripping the button off. 

“If you beg me to be gentle I may consider using lube.” 

Gilbert couldn’t believe this was happening. Yet, this was very real and it was happening right now. Gilbert couldn’t help but feel extremely conflicted, but overall; pride was more important to Gilbert than giving into Ivan’s sadistic perverted thoughts, his gut-churning as he felt like he was going to pass out.

“I didn’t ask for  _ this _ .” Gilbert sucked in a deep breath as he tried to close his legs.

“That doesn’t matter, little mouse.” Irritated by Gilbert’s continued resisting, Ivan roughly pulls the other man’s pants down to his knees and separates his legs with his own. This will definitely teach the smaller man a much-needed lesson on manners and submission. 

Gilbert’s cheeks burned hot as he felt his pants go down, his forehead smacking into the desk as if he was trying to wake up from a horrible nightmare. 

“No wonder Toris is so scared of you,” Gilbert confirms, closing his eyes. “He has every right to be; a monster like you. You feed on fear; but you know what, Ivan? I’m not giving in that easily. I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. ”

“Sure,” Ivan says before giving a firm slap to Gilbert’s ass. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to make this better in your eyes.” With no warning, Ivan pushes into Gilbert in one swift and brutal motion. 

Gilbert couldn’t stop the undignified yelp that left his lips as Ivan smacked it; about to remark before white, hot searing pain blinded his backside; there was no doubt there would be internal bleeding. Gilbert’s body seized with pain at the sudden intrusion, saliva pooling from the corners of his mouth as he wailed with unspeakable pain, the sound foreign even to his own ears as he felt the world crumble around him. 

Ivan lets out a soft sigh before biting his lip. Man, can Gilbert scream or what? He fears perhaps Katya or Nataliya might hear but ultimately remains confident that they are preoccupied elsewhere. 

“Not used to this I see,” Ivan says with amusement before pushing his hips forward once more, deliberating on whether or not to let the man below him get settled. 

Gilbert moaned with discomfort as Ivan moved his hips, the sensation awful to his lower belly; he could  _ feel _ it, he could feel Ivan inside of him. Enjoying his pain and misery. Gilbert wheezed, his body riddled with sweat as his nails bitten into the soft skin of his palms. The tears had long since fallen, leaving wet pools of water on the desk as his body trembled at the intensity. 

“Just get it over and done with it.” Gilbert manages to spit out a strangled gasp of air.

“Oh, but perhaps I want to take my time. Who knows, you may come to enjoy it.” Ivan held back a laugh at the condition of the man below him before setting a steady pace. He placed one hand on the desk beside Gilbert and the other on Gilbert’s hip as he rocked into him. 

“Enjoy it?” Gilbert didn’t sound too convinced, who the fuck would enjoy this? Ivan’s hands felt cold to the touch as he steadied his hips. It wasn’t until a moment’s later that the thrusting began to settle some sort of rhythm, sure that the blood helped ease the process.

Gilbert just couldn’t get over how big Ivan was; he didn’t want to get over it. 

Gilbert’s legs felt numb, his own member limp and still between his legs as the rhythm slowly brought Gilbert into insanity, perhaps even, deep down; the sensation felt… No.

He was getting fucked in the ass, for christ's sake! He was a bitch - he was being Ivan’s bitch. Gilbert grit his teeth, biting the inside of his gums until he could taste iron; he was a man. 

_ A man! _

“You're fucked in the head, you know that?” Gilbert huffed, breathless. Almost laughing. 

"All this righteousness coming from you is rich," Ivan began, trying to keep his voice steady, "did you not aid one of the most brutal regimes this continent has ever seen?" He couldn't help but begin to pick up his pace, focusing more on his own pleasure than the pain of the man below him. “Who knows, you could have helped kill half of Toris’s family. My mother. . . Some would say this is hardly half of what you deserve.” Ivan shudders, feeling himself getting closer. 

Gilbert felt like he was going to pass out again, grinding his teeth as he moaned pitifully as his body jerked with Ivans movements, sore and tender as he tried to catch his breath.

"I'm not proud of what I did, every breath I take doesn't commute the loss my country did to hundreds and thousands of innocent lives. Why don't you do everyone a favor and just kill me already?" Gilbert said like he was simply observing the weather.

"I should have died in Siberia, but I'm here. Alive, breathing." 

"But don't you see, little mouse? Dying is easier." Ivan manages before letting out a soft moan. 

To Gilbert's absolute horror, he found his body enjoying this display of torture despite all odds. Gilbert moaned, his face smacking against the desk to disrupt the pleasure in his rectum. Gilbert felt burning, hot shame as he felt his body started to show visible signs of enjoyment, his cock twitching to life between his legs as he wailed with despair. 

"Kill me. Kill me now!" 

"It would seem my earlier statement is coming to fruition." Ivan's voice is breathless now as he observes the change in Gilbert's body, picking up the pace. 

Gilbert felt his insides tightening up as if he was doing crunches for exercise, wheezing as Ivan started picking up his pace. Gilbert only wished nothing but death as his toes curled in his boots, piercing his subtle lip as it burst with blood, shaking his head repeatedly as he couldn't get over what was happening. 

His body was enjoying this, it was thoroughly enjoying having Ivans fucking dick in his ass. Gilbert's cock wept, the crown red with swelling blood as his body shook in convulsions. 

It happened before he could even stop it from happening, couldn't even if he tried; hot cum spurted in healthy amounts between his legs, decorating the desk with thick beads as he choked on a loud sob, his tears fat and ugly. 

Ivan followed suit almost immediately, shuddering and gripping Gilbert’s hip hard enough to bruise. Uncharacteristically, Ivan gently takes the belt around Gilbert’s off and rubs the sore skin before stepping away from the man.

“I hope it is painfully clear to you now that I own you,” Ivan says while cleaning himself with a small rag that was on the side of the desk. “You can take the next few days off. Even I know that after this basic functions will be extremely difficult for you. Get out of my sight.” 

Gilbert collapsed as he was released from the binding, he no longer wanted to be in the same room with the man who just used him; made him feel good about it- Gilbert didn’t need to be told twice as he struggled to pull up his pants, stumbling forward on legs as if it was his first time walking. It was then Gilbert felt Ivan’s cum dribble out of his hole, grunting as he whipped the splotchy tears away from his face with his sleeve, hobbling over to the door as he left the room without another glance or word. 

It hurt to walk, it hurt to move; it hurt to exist and breath as he staggered down the hall with a limp in his walk. There had to be another way to leave the building without using the main entrance, he couldn’t let Toris see him like _ this. _

Gilbert didn’t care if he left behind his coat and gloves, for the next twenty minutes he spent looking for the backdoor exit, the cold air blistering as his cheeks and nose turned red.

Somehow, Gilbert managed to find his way home through the abundance of pain and shame, sealing himself in his little apartment. His fingers were almost frozen and numb with the cold, shivering as struggled to turn on the shower, his teeth chattering  loudly as he couldn’t stop the intense cold. 


End file.
